Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. Text version by Al Haines. ` A BOOK OF OLD BALLADS Selected and with an Introduction by BEVERLEY NICHOLS [Illustration: Title page art] CONTENTS CLERK COLVILL SIR ALDINGAR EDOM O' GORDON CHEVY CHACE SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE GIL MORRICE THE CHILD OF ELLE CHILD WATERS KING EDWARD IV AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH SIR PATRICK SPENS THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER LIST OF COLOUR PLATES CLERK COLVILL GIL MORRICE CHILD WATERS THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER CLERK COLVILL [Illustration: Clerk Colvill headpiece] [Illustration: Clerk Colvill] Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame Were walking in the garden green; The belt around her stately waist Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen. "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill, Or it will cost ye muckle strife, Ride never by the wells of Slane, If ye wad live and brook your life." "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame, Now speak nae mair of that to me; Did I neer see a fair woman, But I wad sin with her body?" He's taen leave o his gay lady, Nought minding what his lady said, And he's rode by the wells of Slane, Where washing was a bonny maid. "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid, That wash sae clean your sark of silk;" "And weel fa you, fair gentleman, Your body whiter than the milk." * * * * * Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill, "O my head it pains me sair;" "Then take, then take," the maiden said, "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare." Then she's gied him a little bane-knife, And frae her sark he cut a share; She's ty'd it round his whey-white face, But ay his head it aked mair. Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville, "O sairer, sairer akes my head;" "And sairer, sairer ever will," The maiden crys, "till you be dead." Out then he drew his shining blade, Thinking to stick her where she stood, But she was vanished to a fish, And swam far off, a fair mermaid. "O mother, mother, braid my hair; My lusty lady, make my bed; O brother, take my sword and spear, For I have seen the false mermaid." SIR ALDINGAR [Illustration: Sir Aldingar headpiece] Our king he kept a false stewàrde, Sir Aldingar they him call; A falser steward than he was one, Servde not in bower nor hall. He wolde have layne by our comelye queene, Her deere worshippe to betraye: Our queene she was a good womàn, And evermore said him naye. Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind, With her hee was never content, Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse, In a fyer to have her brent. There came a lazar to the kings gate, A lazar both blinde and lame: He tooke the lazar upon his backe, Him on the queenes bed has layne.